


Oh Hush Thee My Baby

by Meldanya



Category: Miss Fisher's Murder Mysteries
Genre: Gen, Hurt/Comfort, Or possibly worse ..., Petfic, Puppy Fic, injured pet
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-02-27
Updated: 2018-04-06
Packaged: 2018-09-27 06:31:39
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 1,402
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9980558
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Meldanya/pseuds/Meldanya
Summary: All Jack wants is a quiet evening. Chipmunk has other plans.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Fire_Sign](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Fire_Sign/gifts).



> Happy (rather belated) birthday, Fire_Sign! What's a birthday without angsty PetFic?
> 
> Note: this story contains an injured dog

_Thank goodness no one was home_. Jack thought to himself in the unusually quiet hall at Wardlow. He’d had a non-stop parade of frustrating visitors and bureaucratic messes at the station all day, and a quiet evening with a book was in order.

Ant was off to the pictures with his mates. He didn’t know what case Phryne was working (“The less you know, Jack, the happier you’ll be”), but he didn’t expect her home until late.

He called out into the silence, “Chipmunk? Lass?” Nothing. She was probably out for a walk, with the cabbies or Mr. B perhaps. Cec in particular was prone to scoop her up for adventures.

Humming a tune, Jack poured himself a drink and picked up his book as he settled into his chair. He’d barely started when he set it down again -- it was too quiet without her normal snuffling and snoring filling the parlour. _Perhaps Cec had left a note._

The kitchen was empty: though her lead was hanging up in its usual space, and the door was ominously ajar. Jack sighed, his happy evening had quickly devolved into beagle wrangling.

He grabbed his hat and coat, and set off in the direction of the cinema -- if he knew her, she’d be trying to angle a way in to join Ant (and the popcorn) inside.

“Chip, here girl! Chipmunk!” as he’d done too frequently over the years down the street.

He slowed down as he rounded the corner -- there was a crowd of half a dozen people gathering in the street, voices raised. 

“I swear, I didn’t see ‘er. Mutt just appeared out of nowhere," a bald man was sobbing.  


Jack pushed his way to the front of the circle, using his official voice, “Now, what’s happening he--”

His standard phrase ended suddenly as he saw the body they were surrounding -- a mess of blood and fur, and a too-familiar tail.

 _Chipmunk_.  



	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jack nurses the little beagle.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay, so this was quite a delay between chapters, but, I ran into some health problems that meant no writing. I can write again now, and I couldn't well leave poor Chip like that.

The hours that followed were a blur: getting her home, the arrival of the vet, the decision to save her, and then the tense hour of stitching when Jack could only focus on holding his dog’s head. 

The vet and his assistant left, “It’s touch and go. Careful nursing and we’ll call around again in the morning.”

Then it was just Jack and his broken dog in Wardlow’s kitchen.  

He could finally think, and it wasn’t a good thing. His head reeled; he gripped the corner of the kitchen table, trying not to panic. What would life be without Chip? How would Ant handle it? How would  _ he _ handle it?

The whole of Wardlow's kitchen was filled with Chip and her presence. Her water bowl, the lead by the door, the jar full of treats that Mr. Butler always ensured was full. The scratches on all the drawerfronts from her counter climbing. The clawmarks in the centre of the kitchen table from when she'd stolen Mr. Butler's roast.

The house would be unbearable without her in it. 

_She’d just have to stay in it._ He knelt down beside her, took out his notebook, and started to flesh out the vet’s notes.

* * *

 That night, Jack slept on the kitchen floor next to Chip, listening for her breathing. He didn't sleep much: every hour, he changed the makeshift diapers they'd put on her, so she would be comfortable. He offered her water through a baster so she wouldn't have to move her neck (in the morning, he'd send Mr. B out for a dozen basters as this one didn't look likely to last).

At 5 am in the morning, Phryne found him crouched over the dog, hand feeding her porridge. Chip's tail was feebly beating as she licked Jack's hands.

Phryne handed Jack a mug of tea from the still-warm pot.

"You can't take care of her if you don't get any sleep yourself."

Jack didn't respond to that, but gratefully took the tea.

After he had downed cup in one gulp. "How's Ant?"

"He fell asleep in our bed. His bed felt too empty without Chip in it."

Phryne softly stroked the beagle's head. "She made it through the night."

"She'll make through many others."  _ She has to. _ Jack's face was grim.

Phryne took his empty mug away from him. "Get some sleep, Jack. I'll sit with her."

He stiffly hauled himself to his feet, and passed the bowl of porridge to Phryne. "She'll want more when she wakes."

Jack stumbled into his bedroom where his son had somehow sprawled over the entirety of the bed, clutching his stuffed toy dog. He turned around and collapsed on Ant's bed instead, trying not to think about the warm little figure that was normally on the foot of the bed.


	3. Chapter 3

It felt like his face had barely hit the pillow when Mr. Butler was shaking him awake.

"Your constable's on the line for you, sir. There's been a murder."

Jack cursed under his breath. It had only been 30 minutes.

He dressed quickly and took the information from his constable. Back in the kitchen, Phryne was still sitting next to the barely-stirring beagle.  
"There's been a murder."

They both paused. At this point, they would both normally be grabbing their hats and be out the door. Yet only one of them was paid to be there.  
Phryne didn't move. "I hope it's nice and clean."

Jack swallowed. He didn't want to leave the house right now: not when his dog was — his dog was —

"I'll call." He managed to get the words out, and he grabbed his hat and left.

Phryne spent all morning in the kitchen, feeding Chip the medication and meals according to Jack's detailed notes of the vet's instructions.

Jack called twice an hour all day: he was at the crime scene, how was Chip? he was at the morgue, how was Chip? he was interviewing suspects, how was Chipmunk?< /p> Phryne responded, "No change."

That night, they both stayed up with her, watching, waiting, for some type of change to occur.

In the morning, she was much the same, uninterested in the world around her. Phryne stroked her head, "Jack ... we have to let him see her."

The previous morning, Ant had been whisked off by Mrs. Collins, and had spent the day with her. Jack had hoped to shelter him from the worst of it. To be spared the sight of his comatose dog.

But now, a comatose dog seemed better than a dead dog. Jack nodded mutely in agreement.

* * *

He never learned just what Phryne said to prepare Ant for the sight, but his son was uncharacteristically quiet and solemn as he tip-toed into the kitchen.

Chip wasn't though. Her brown ears perked up for the first time in days, at the sound of Ant's whisper, "Can I pet her?"

As her boy knelt down beside her, the beagle started whining, and her tail weakly thumped down against the floor.

He softly stroked her side, "She knows me, dad, she _knows_ me!"

His parents watched the little dog try to wiggle onto her boy's lap, the first bit of energy she'd shown in days.

"Yes, yes, she certainly does."

* * *

Ant fed her dinner that night, the little dog gratefully lapped the oats and beef out of his hand. The food disappeared as the tail started to wag more.

In the evening, Jack tucked Ant into a makeshift bed on the kitchen floor, his dog snoozing beside him. "Come wake an adult up _immediately_ if you need us."

Jack himself spent an uneasy night on the parlour chaise, waiting for the call. None came.< /p>

The next day, Ant was feeding Chip breakfast when Jack left for the case, and the boy was still perched beside his dog when he came home in the evening.

"He hasn't left her all day," Phryne said under her breath.

Chipmunk was still injured and still struggling, but her eyes were open, her chin resting on Ant's knee as he read to her from his latest boy's adventure novel.

"The vet was very optimistic when he called."

That night, Jack slept in his own bed, Phryne by his side. 

* * *

Some weeks later, they were having tea around the kitchen table, and Jack felt the two familiar brown eyes staring at him, and staring at the cheese with a soulful expression. No one commented on the disappearing cheese and the wagging tail underneath Jack's chair.


End file.
